The Fallen
by Sinfinitely
Summary: As punishment, Draco is stripped of his wings and thrown from Heaven. Hermione lives a quiet life, until the day she comes across a mysterious man who is broken in more ways than one. AU Dramione
1. Prologue: The Fall

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the content within this fanfiction.

A/N: Hey guys, I'm starting a new story and if you like it, I promise I'll stick with it. I am in not religious, so I'm sorry if I get my stuff wrong, I changed a lot of things to make it work for the story :P And as always please leave a review!

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_ How you have fallen from heaven, O morning star, son of the dawn! You have been cast down to the earth, you who once laid low the nations!_

Isaiah 14:12

Prologue: The Fall

The sky was darkening as thunderclouds loomed overhead, black clouds rolled in, covering the night sky. Atop a golden bridge stood two tall figures dimly lit by the stars. A lightning bolt illuminated the scene, shedding a brief instance of light over the men's faces, the clap of thunder followed thereafter, disturbing the still silence. All around them millions of stars watched somberly.

"You disappoint me, Draco. You've failed."

_Failed. Failure._ The words cut into Draco like a knife, tearing through his pride.

Lucius stood tall opposite him, towering over his son with a passive look on his face. He was an imposing figure with long blonde hair and piercing grey eyes that spoke of wisdom and grace.

"No…"

"You knew the consequences should you fail."

"N-No! Father, please! Please, Father!" Draco was proud, but the situation was grave, he knew. He was not above begging at this point.

Unwavering, Lucius gave his final verdict. "It must be done, my son."

"Father! Father please! Have mercy on me!"

He could not move at all. Completely paralyzed, Draco felt the soft pressure of Lucius' palm against his chest, pressing uncharacteristically softly, before his body was forcefully thrown backwards from the bridge.

His instincts told him to fly, he automatically opened his wings. His powerful wings, however, would not carry him. One by one, the soft white feathers turned a midnight black and detached themselves. Floating up into the sky, they cruelly resembled tainted snow as they drifted back down.

Draco plummeted at a ferocious speed hurtling downwards, the winds whipped through tearing at the flesh of his wings. He screamed in pain, howling as it ripped, his body contorting.

It felt like a thousand burning needles pricking his skin as the feathers were stolen from their roots. Suddenly an unknown force seared through his back, completely severing his no longer pure, white wings. Pain unlike any other he had ever experienced wracked his body.

He pitifully reached a hand up to where he knew, far above Lucius stood on the bridge, watching the scene unfold with a reserved calm.

Thunder and lightning continued to accompany Draco's descent, casting light and shadow over his form. He tilted his head down, watching as the earth drew nearer and nearer, before his eyes slid shut and he let unconsciousness take over. Suddenly the thunder and lightning stopped all at once.

It began to rain softly as Heaven mourned the loss of her beloved son, Her tears washing away the blood on his battered form. High up above falling stars could be seen shooting across the sky, signaling an angel's descent from grace. They illuminated the hemisphere as they burned brightly.

And Draco fell.

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A/N 2: Please tell me what you think and lemme know if I should continue, your feedback motivates me :)


	2. Paradise

**Disclaimer: **Not mine, never was, never will be. All rights to JK Rowling.

**A/N:** I've actually plotted this story out completely! I'm pretty proud of myself ( that's why it took so long to update btw ) I envision quite a few chapters, lets pray I don't disappoint. Anyways I hope you like it and thank you for all the support, keep it coming! :)

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_And he said to him,__"Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise."_

Luke 23:43

Chapter 1: Paradise

A heavy weight bore down on Hermione's chest, cutting off the air to her lungs. She coughed, trying to get rid of the pressure. When that had no effect, her body began to instinctively panic. Her lungs started gasping for air and her chest heaved with the effort to inhale. Struggling with asphyxiation, her eyes flew open and she sat up quickly in bed.

Crookshanks was launched from his sleeping position on Hermione's torso to the floor. He hissed in rage, spitting as he did so.

"Crookshanks! Gods, you almost killed me!" Hermione coughed violently and wheezed, regaining her breath.

She threw open the curtains, letting the sunlight dance into the room. Hermione sighed and looked out the window into her own slice of paradise. Fields of endless green and flowers of every color imaginable bathed in the golden sun. The smell of lilac, jasmine and lavender drifted into her bedroom, permeating the air. It was a quiet, peaceful morning.

Picking out a cotton summer dress and leather boots, she plaited her hair into a neat braid. Hermione skipped down the stairs of her two-level cottage. It was old, very old, but she kept it clean and in good condition. It fit perfectly with the meadow that surrounded it. Vines crept up the side, teaming with Clematis and green leaves. Green moss grew in tufts between the stones that made up the four walls, giving the otherwise harsh look a softer side.

She had lived there with her parents ever since she was a child, this was her home. However both her parents were gone now and she was alone. They had died in the fire that ravaged the tiny cottage when she was just sixteen. It had taken her years to restore the cottage and meadow to its original state. This house held all her memories, the good and the bad.

Hermione whistled a tune and cooed at Crookshanks: "C'mon Crooks, let's go for a walk outside."

A cool breeze played with her skirts and hair as she treaded carefully through the tall grass. Letting the blades brush through her fingers and twirling them round, she bent to smell the perennials as they floated like purple islands in a dark green sea.

She laughed as she watched Crookshanks sneaking through the grass, playing hide and seek with himself. Hermione stopped as she came to the edge of the forest that circled the meadow. She smiled up at the trees and stepped forward.

The fur on Crookshanks neck stood up and he arched his back, giving a loud growl as he did so.

"…Crooks?" She asked hesitantly.

The orange ball of fur darted past Hermione, racing into the forest at a lightning speed: "Crookshanks!"

Branches cut her face as she mindlessly chased after him. Her braids bounced off her back and the ribbons caught on the trees, undoing her hair. He was a blur as he led Hermione deep into the forest; she nearly lost sight of him as he rounded a corner in the trees. Suddenly, the forest thinned away to reveal a small clearing and Crookshanks slowed to a trot.

Trying to catch her breath, Hermione slowed as well. Her eyes immediately scanned the area, the trees in this area were all severely burned and in the process of dying. Her gaze came to rest on a small crater located in the center. It wasn't the crater that surprised Hermione; rather what was lying broken and cradled inside it.

Hands flew to cover her mouth as she froze in horror.

Her voice shook when she gasped, "Oh God!"

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A man lay in the wreckage.

Fresh blood dribbled from his mouth and pooled around his body. Cuts and bruises littered his torso and his left arm lay bent at a gruesome angle. His golden hair was matted with dust and leaves. Hermione rushed over to his side, kneeling down she gently placed two fingers over his wrist. She sent a silent prayer and hoped it would be answered.

_Please let him not be dead._

A faint thrumming could be felt and her heart leapt with relief. He was alive! She bent over and studied his face closer. What she saw stole away the breath from her lungs. Lord, he was beautiful. Even broken and battered, underneath the dirt, his face was absolutely perfect. His porcelain skin was smooth and unmarked, he looked much younger than she had first perceived.

His mouth fell slightly open and was framed by soft lips. His nose was straight and ever so slightly upturned. His eyes, though closed, were framed by thick blonde lashes. She trailed her gaze down towards his exposed chest. He was _very_ well muscled, but with a lean physique. The man's hips cut a deep V towards the white cloth that covered his…

_What am I doing?!_ _Get a grip Hermione!_

Hermione mentally berated herself. He was alive and if she wanted him to stay that way, she would need to act fast. Breaking off a large piece of bark, she gently lifted him and slid it underneath. No easy feat, the man was huge! He was at least 6'0 foot and greatly outweighed her small frame.

Hermione ripped the hem of her dress and tied it around his torso and the makeshift sled, successfully strapping him securely to it. With Crookshanks acting as a guide, she began to drag him slowly and painfully behind her through the forest and back the way they came.

Panting with the effort, she sent out another silent prayer that he would make it through the long journey home.


	3. Retribution

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone that reviewed! I promise I'll be updating a lot faster now.

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_Let love of the brethren continue. __Forget not to show love unto strangers:__for thereby some have welcomed angels as guests without knowing it._

Hebrews 13: 1-2

Chapter 2: Retribution

The faint sound of splashing water could be heard echoing throughout the small house. It was warm in her bedroom, the sun shone brightly, casting silhouettes on the bedcovers. Hermione dipped a cloth into the basin and twisted, wringing it of excess water.

Sitting on a wooden stool beside the bed where Draco lay, she gently wiped away the dirt and blood from his face and body. Crookshanks was curled at his feet, snuggled into the duvet, keeping watch over the man.

She had laid him down after the long journey and began assessing the damage. When Hermione saw his back, she had nearly retched. In between his shoulder blades and spine were two large gashes that cut deep into his flesh.

It looked as if someone had tried to carve out his backside with a blade.

Sterilising a needle, she carefully stitched closed the cuts. Hermione had tightly wrapped white bandaging all around his torso to stop the bleeding and applied a salve to disinfect and heal the scratches on his chest and arms. His broken arm was placed in a splint. Satisfied with her work she let him rest.

There wasn't much more she could do but watch, wait and hope his body wouldn't give up without a fight.

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Two days had passed since she brought him home and he had remained in the same comatose state. The only sign of life was the subtle rise and fall of his chest. She had hardly strayed from his side during that time, spending all day looking after him.

Now nighttime Hermione was absolutely exhausted. Unwillingly, her eyes began to drift shut and her head fell to rest beside his hand on the soft comforter.

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Sunlight shone through the open curtains, gently waking Hermione. She shifted her body and moaned in discomfort when she felt all her muscles protest. She looked up at the bed and froze.

He was gone.

_How could I not have heard him move during the night?!_

She mentally cursed for not having paid more attention and falling asleep. Hermione noticed small red splatters on the floorboards. She carefully followed the blood trail down the stairs and through the small kitchen. To her sickening dismay, as the trail went on the amount of blood increased.

When she got to her front door she saw that it was already open, letting a cool summer breeze pass through. The trail continued into the flowers. Hermione bolted out the door, the sun shone so brightly she had to shield her eyes from the rays.

_He can't have gone far, not with those wounds, _she calmly reasoned. Trying to stifle the panic and worry rising in her gut, Hermione meticulously scanned the area for any signs of his whereabouts.

Thankfully, a little ways away from the cottage she managed to spot a patch of trampled flowers; an odd blemish in the otherwise perfect meadow. Without hesitation, Hermione sprinted into the waist-high grass towards that spot. She found him lying pitifully face-down in a bed of bright marigolds.

He had ripped the stitching in his back and now the wounds were once again open and bleeding. The red fluid dripped slowly onto the flowers, staining them a copper color.

Her heart ached at the sight. Carefully she bent down and used all her strength to lift his upper body and wound his arm around her shoulders to support his full weight.

Slowly the burden was alleviated as she felt him react to the contact. A male voice rasped in her ear.

"Who are you?"

The unexpected sound caused Hermione to jump in her skin. She turned her head slowly to face him, finding that he was already looking right into her eyes.

Lord, he had the most captivating eyes.

They were dark silver, with small flecks of gold circling the pupil. Hermione felt herself consumed by his gaze and her trance was only broken when Draco shut his eyes and fell against her, his legs giving out. The muscles in his back screamed in protest every time he moved. His whole body hurt and pure agony shot through his fractured arm. Draco almost passed out from the overwhelming sensation of pain.

"Stay with me!" She shook him gently. "We need to get you back to the house. I'll explain everything later."

His vision was starting to go blurry again, but Draco reluctantly did as he was told. He knew he was too weak to support his body completely and needed to use her as a crutch. He left his arm around her thin shoulders and she slid her arms around his sides to hold him up.

The position was very intimate as he leaned heavily on Hermione, their bodies were pressed together and their sweat mingled where they made contact.

Draco's bare foot caught on a rock and he fell considerably hard against her. He heard the wind rush out of her lungs and felt her soft curves cushion his hard body. He grunted an apology before painfully righting himself.

It took some time, but they managed to stumble back towards the small house.

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Draco stared at the white ceiling and blue walls. He had been lying in bed for hours thinking back on the previous night:

_You've failed. You disappoint._

_His father's words repeated in his mind, over and over._

_He awoke in a panicked daze trying to escape the voice. Half-conscious he stumbled down the steps and out the door. Needing to get away, Draco tried opening his wings to fly._

_That's when it hit him._

_I will never fly again. _

_I am forever chained to this earth._

_The thought sent a wave of unbearable grief through his soul. And he ran_.

"You're awake." Her soft voice drifted from the doorway tearing him out of his thoughts.

Draco turned to look at the woman who had helped him. She was petite, a good head shorter than him. Her body was thin, but fit. Chocolate brown curls ran down her back and framed her oval face. In her hand she clutched a small white box bearing a red cross. Her honey colored orbs darted to his face.

"My name's Hermione. I-I found you in a clearing not too far from here; you were in a rough condition. I wasn't sure you'd make it. The closest town is a forty-five minute walk from here and I was afraid you didn't have that much time." Unable to stop, the words rushed from her mouth.

She was incredibly nervous as he stared at her with an unreadable expression.

"Hermione," he tested the name on his tongue. "You may call me Draco."

"I'm sorry to be so forward Draco, but I need to stitch your back again. They came apart when you ran."

Draco sat up giving her his silent permission and he took notice of how her gaze lingered on his toned chest. He smirked at this.

She walked over to the bed and sat down. Carefully, Hermione unwrapped the tight bandages from his torso.

Draco didn't feel the pain of the needle piercing his skin nor the tugging of flesh as the thread was pulled through over and over. They sat in an uncomfortable silence until she couldn't help her curiosity and asked: "What happened to you?"

"A beast attacked me. I was unable to identify the creature before it lunged and clawed at my back," Draco lied effortlessly.

"I'm afraid that it'll take at least six weeks to heal your fractured arm… Is there anyone you would like to contact about the incident?"

"No, there's no one." The tone of his voice was contrite.

She offered him an understanding smile. "I think it would be best if you stayed here while you heal, your bandages need to be changed frequently and you can't do it with your arm immobilized. Plus," she added. "We'd love to have a guest, wouldn't we Crooks?"

The cat agreed by rubbing himself against Draco's uninjured hand.

He thought over what she said and finally asked: "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you let me stay with you?"

"You can hardly take care of yourself in this state," she reasoned.

"Where is your fear? I could cause you harm."

"I'm not sure why but…" Hermione paused, thoughtful. "I trust you."

She finished the last stitch in his back and began rewinding gauze around his body. "And besides, you can barely walk, never mind try to hurt me."

Hermione got up to leave, but he caught her hand.

He ignored his pride and managed a small 'Thank you'.

She offered another smile and said: "Its late, you should get some rest."


End file.
